Gray Panthers: Dixie (28 page)

Fire Ship Spark, en route to planet Glory

20 November 2128

Roar sat in the cafeteria, sampling Earth food. He was eating a bird called chicken. He thought it tasted familiar. One of the modifications to the Libra ship was a chef unit that would make any food he desired. He hoped he wouldn’t get fat on this ship.

“Roar, you’re getting lazy and fat aboard this ship. I am embarrassed that you are my friend.” Slash sat down next to his friend and began to eat the food from his plate.

“This tastes familiar. What is it?”

“A chicken bird from Earth.” Roar pushed his plate over to his friend.

“What do you think of working with humans? They are different, are they not?” Slash stuffed a chunk of chicken in his mouth as he talked.

“I think they are more Jacka than Jacka. Every one of them has fought the one they are to train, to assert their dominance. They are all runts, and that makes it embarrassing. We were bested by ones better trained than us. We can learn from them.”

The lights started to flash red and then white as a buzzing noise came over the speakers.

“Battle stations. Battle stations. Battle stations.”

Roar looked at Slash in confusion, and they both ran from the cafeteria to their duty stations. The other shift was already working his position as Roar looked to Chief Honda.

“What am I to do for battle stations, Chief?”

“If you’re on shift, stay at your position. If you’re off shift, assist the person who’s on shift at your station.”

“Wait. We are not under attack. We are using the FTL drive. Is this a trick?” Roar looked around to see if anyone was laughing at him.

“Roar, do you practice fighting, or do you wait until there’s a fight?” Chief Honda asked neutrally. As he spoke, the speakers blared out a new message.

“Secure from battle stations. Department heads to the captain’s cabin in five minutes for debrief.”

“I understand, Chief Honda. Thank you for your patience with me.” Roar felt stupid for not figuring it out himself. He was also surprised that the chief didn’t belittle him for asking the question.

Dixie ship Galveston, en route to Earth

21 November 2128

Master Sergeant McGuire was getting tired of being on the ship and could feel the onset of cabin fever.

“Hey, crewman, how do you keep from going crazy on this tub?”

“Ma’am, the Galveston is no tub. If you’re getting sick of being penned up, cargo hold two is empty. The hold is stocked with sports gear and recreational material.”

“Thanks, sonny. What are you doing when your shift is over? Want to have some fun?” McGuire always loved the shocked look she got when she made comments like that. She realized that she had the face of a hundred-year-old woman, but she still had the body of a twenty-year-old.
Time to find the squad and go to cargo hold two and get some exercise.

McGuire pressed her neck button and said, “Comm entire squad. Now hear this. I want everyone at cargo hold two in five minutes in full athletic attire or as close as you can get to it. McGuire out.”

The cargo hold was huge. The synthetic surface on the deck was firm, yet not hard. It looked like the track around the hold was a 220. She decided she wouldn’t force them to run yet, if they could stay active. Then she noticed a shuttlecock.

“Okay, everyone. There are boxes along the wall. We’re going to set up for badminton. Let’s go. Time for some mandatory fun.”

“Help me!” Coyle was at the end of a tunnel, with only a simple flashlight. His gear and beamer had been torn from him as he ran through the wobblers, refusing to shoot them. His flashlight was starting to flicker as he heard his squad coming from the darkness. The violence his men were putting out was obvious to his trained ears, but he didn’t hear any weapons fire. He was happy they were following orders and still coming for him. The last of the wobblers was butt-stroked away from him and his light finally sparked back to life. His men were all dead and coming toward him. He was no longer scared and waited for them to cover the last few feet to him. He figured all he had to do was wait for them and it would all be over.

“We’re here for you, Staff Sergeant Coyle.” He woke, drenched from his nightmare as the orderly brought in his food.

General Black was looking at the stack of data chips and wondered why in this day and age there wasn’t something easier. His work was done, and he figured if anyone needed anything he would delegate it. All he wanted to do was rest and forget he even wore a uniform. He opened a chest and pulled out a cold beer as he spoke into his wrist computer. “Project Zane Grey’s Riders of the Purple Sage in text format.” He reached for his beer, knowing he would soon escape the ship for a few hours.

Arizona Space Ship Beater, in Libra space

21 November 2128

“Captain, we’re ready to drop back into normal space. Estimate we are four hours away from planet Tak by impulse.” Short Blade was relieved to be certified at navigation and trusted by the other bridge officers.

“Very well. We will drop out in five minutes. Sound condition red. I want to be ready for any surprises.”

“Condition red. Battle stations. Battle stations. Battle stations.” The lights dimmed to red and everyone on board assumed their posts.

Matt Andrews sat in his Dart, doing a quick preflight in case he had to launch. The rest of Dart Flight was busy performing their own inspections.

Captain Young sat with his marines by the Major Rogers, ready either to launch or repel boarders. The men around him tried to act nonchalant as they checked their weapons or adjusted their equipment.

“Drop to regular space now.” Johnson had the display for scanners on the main screen as he looked for any potential targets.

“Board is clear, Captain.” Short Blade was happy to see that he was on the money for their location.

“Set course for Tak, full impulse. Use active scanning. Condition black, fifty percent alert until we get closer to Tak.”

“Captain Johnson, I am picking up reports from Tak,” Beater advised. “They are broadcasting that there has been a major accident on their moon. There was an explosion that set off a cascade effect throughout the moon. It seems they have used the moon for over a thousand years, first for mining and then using the mining tunnels for the factories they considered too dangerous to have on Tak.” Johnson sat stunned as Beater continued to report the calamities on Tak.

“The moon has begun to break apart and is forming a ring around Tak similar to that of Saturn. Tak is experiencing gravitational adjustments without the mass of the moon nearby. Major weather changes are also being reported.”

“Short Blade, set a new course for planet Finey,” Johnson instructed. “Commander Poland, engage when solution is plotted. You have the flight deck.” Johnson appeared normal as he got up and left the flight deck, but once in the passageway, he made a beeline for the head. Making it to the first stall, he dropped to his knees and let loose into the toilet. The room began to spin and he felt lightheaded. He put his arm across the top of the toilet seat and rested his head on his arm, noticing that he had begun to heavily sweat.

“Captain, can I help you?” Recognizing Guns’s voice, Johnson nodded. Guns lifted him easily and put the captain’s arm around his own shoulder.

“I’ll get you to the sickbay right away, Captain.” Guns was worried about his captain and would do anything for him.

“No, help me to my cabin. I just need some rest.” As Guns helped the captain to his cabin, he heard Johnson begin to mumble to himself.

“We did it again, damn it. Nakhl Taghi all over again.” Johnson broke into tears and began to sob as Guns opened his cabin door and helped him get to his bunk. Johnson curled up into a ball and continued to weep softly as Guns closed the hatch behind him. As Guns recalled Nakhl Taghi from the Iranian war, the smell of burning flesh came flooding back to him. He headed back to his duty station and tried to forget Nakhl Taghi.

Word spread through the Beater about the disaster at Tak. Emotions were mixed. Many felt guilt, while others accepted it as collateral damage. No one noticed that the captain had become more distant and erratic, except for Guns, who stayed quiet out of loyalty.

Arizona Space Ship Beater, in Libra space

21 November 2128

“Captain, we’re ready to drop back into normal space. Estimate we are four hours away from planet Finey by impulse.” Lieutenant Horton began to prepare scanners for dropping into regular space.

“Good job. We’ll drop out in five minutes. Sound condition red. I want to be ready for any surprises.”

“Condition red. Battle stations. Battle stations. Battle stations.” The lights dimmed to red and everyone on board the Beater assumed their battle stations.

“Drop to regular space now.” Johnson had the display for scanners on the main screen as he looked for any potential targets.

“Sir, numerous small targets at heading forty degrees, one hour out at maximum impulse. No energy signatures detected.” Horton looked harder for any other targets.

“Heading forty degrees, Lieutenant Horton. Dart Flight, looks like we may have some targets for you.”

“Captain, you’re heading for the remains of a space battle from ninety years ago. The battle was between the Gipe and the Finey. The battle was closer to Finey, but stellar drift has moved the wreckage to this area of space that is not transited often.” Beater continued to give details, but Johnson ignored it.

“I want to see this battlefield. Continue on heading.” Johnson began to form a plan to put into place if he found what he hoped he would.

The first flotsam from the battle was unidentified scraps of metal. The Beater slowed down to more easily navigate through the debris field. Huge remains of ships came into range, their hulls pockmarked with holes and entire sections missing.

“Looks like a good place after the war to get scrap metal,” Johnson half joked.

“Captain Johnson, both the Gipe and the Finey would be very hostile if that were to happen. They both consider this a graveyard and would not even consider refurbishing or salvaging their ships destroyed in battle. Other species that have attempted to have been executed outright.”

“Thanks for the warning, Beater.” Johnson was wondering about reprogramming the annoying AI, when more debris was detected—a Dart fighter without any apparent damage seemed to just hang in space.

“Major Rogers, I need you to bring in that Dart. Would that be a problem?”

“No problem. I will recover the Dart now.” The Major Rogers headed for the Dart and positioned itself over the craft, engaging its electromagnetic landing gear. The Dart was quickly drawn to the shuttle, which then proceeded toward the Beater.

Almost the entire crew waited as the Major Rogers entered the bay and slowly lowered itself until the Dart was on the deck. The shuttle then released the Dart and proceeded to park in its normal spot.

Andrews walked around the Dart, unable to find anything wrong with it at first. It was Short Blade who discovered the damage.

“Looks like there was a lucky shot.” Short Blade pointed to a tiny hole in the canopy and the tiny hole in the seated pilot’s helmet. He brought a portable power supply and flipped the external switch to raise the canopy, then disconnected power.

“Poor bastard. Looks like he must have been waiting for something,” Andrews said as he inspected the gauges. Even though he didn’t understand the language, he recognized the settings. “The ship is set to hold stationary position, and power setting is at its lowest. I’d guess they were going to ambush their enemy and were discovered. Looks like we have ourselves another Dart. Now we just need Scotty Scholl back and a new pilot.”

“That won’t be happening any time soon, Captain Andrews,” Johnson said. “Guns and Jimmy, I want you to see if you can get the ship mission-ready to fly via remote control. Bring a portable stasis pod and put the pilot on ice. He has one more mission to fly, and unfortunately he is beginning to stink.

“Johnson to flight deck. Let’s keep surveying the debris field. I’ll be back on the flight deck soon.”
This is going to work. I know it.

“Captain, only other debris we found that may be of use is a patrol ship. It’s larger than the Beater and appears to have only minimal damage from the outside. No detected radiation leakage of any type,” Horton said, studying his scanner for any more details.

“Do we know the origin of the patrol ship?” Johnson asked, looking at the ship on the large view screen.

“Captain, the patrol ship is from Finey.”

“How difficult would it be to send over a couple of our droids and see if we can get the engines functional, along with at least one weapons system? Life support and environmental systems are not needed. I just need to send it to the Gipe home world. I also want either a large explosive or the engines to explode when it enters their atmosphere.”

“I am unable to give you an estimate until the interior of the ship is inspected. There are too many variables.”

“Beater, go ahead and send over a team of droids on the Major Rogers. Will you need any human support to go with?”

“No human support is needed, Captain.”

“Captain, I would like to accompany the team in order to evaluate the technology. Great opportunity for an engineer.” Poland was obviously relishing the prospects of checking out the ship.

“Commander Poland, I want you to take a marine with you in case you get in trouble or have an accident. I’d make sure you have an extra patch kit, in case of any sharp edges.”